Gentlemen
by Galaxy1001D
Summary: When Dorothy makes a discovery in Roger's office, it triggers a battle of the sexes.


_The Big O__ and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network. Additional material by James Desborough, _© _Mongoose Publishing._

THE BIG O Presents:

**Gentleman**

_By Galaxy1001D_

If Dorothy Wayneright wasn't a real woman, then her creator had definitely done his homework. Dorothy's slender form was barely five-foot three but weighed nearly two hundred and eighty pounds because the large amount of ferrous metal used in her construction. In the strictest sense, R Dorothy Wayneright was not a human being at all; she was an android constructed to perfectly resemble a sullen teenage girl.

Despite, or perhaps, _because_ of her artificial origin, after moving into the home of Roger Smith she seemed determined to prove that she was a real girl and not just a clever imitation. From the moment Roger's butler Norman Burg announced that the girlish android would be staying with them Dorothy began her seemingly never-ending struggle to prove that she should be treated as a real woman and not a robot servant.

For his part, Roger Smith attempted to deny that a member the fair sex had somehow infiltrated his home. To allow someone in was bad enough, but to allow a woman actual residence was inconceivable. Although an intimate overnighter could be welcome, he had no wish for a female to permanently invade his home the way a cuckoo laid its eggs in another bird's nest. Despite the fact that he shared meals with her, he refused to admit that a girl who passed herself off as an emotionless robot had infiltrated the great phallic white tower of masculinity known as the Smith Mansion.

At first he reprimanded her for displaying female characteristics, accusing her of imitation. Indeed, he had gone out of his way to point out that while he was human, she was an android: two completely different things. Later as the truth began to rear its ugly head, he curbed his tongue, bought her gifts and even gone as far as making efforts to spare her feelings. This was in spite of the fact that when she first moved in he declared that as a machine, she didn't have feelings.

To the uninformed male, a robot that appeared to be a slender, comely teenage girl would appear to be a godsend. To have a robot girl that dressed like a maid and cleaned the house would seem both practical and titillating. But R Dorothy Wayneright was a robot girl created for an entirely different purpose than one would expect.

Dorothy's 'father', the late Doctor Timothy Wayneright had built her to be a daughter. Not a girlfriend. Not a servant. Not a windup doll that is programmed to perform admirably whether making a bed or lying in one. A daughter. In order create a daughter; Doctor Wayneright had to design a more complicated 'real live' girl, rather than a more simplified 'idealized' one. Roger Smith had overlooked that fact and realized his mistake too late.

Every time Roger started to forget Dorothy was a woman and not merely a machine she would find a new way to remind him. For example, one day Roger came home after seeing an informant to find R Dorothy Wayneright waiting for him when he got home.

If she had been a simpler 'idealized' robot girl she would have been clad in a revealing bunny costume. Instead she was wearing a dowdy reddish black dress with a rather high collar that displayed none of her ivory white skin aside of that on her hands and her head. Roger had previously ordered her to wear black. Instead she chose a shade of red so dark that it was mistaken for black in dim light. This 'flexible' way to reinterpret Roger's wishes would often be used to bend the rules in her favor.

"You took your time, Roger Smith," she said in her quiet emotionless voice that was well suited to convey subtle hostility. She stood in the manner of a soldier in the 'at ease' position with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Dorothy," Roger nodded while steeling himself for a confrontation. The android girl only used his last name when she was unhappy with him about something. He was mildly irked that she dared to nag him about his punctuality when it was trips like these that put food on the table, or in Dorothy's case, fuel on the table.

He was prepared to brush her off when she asked him a question. "Do you consider yourself a gentleman?"

Roger gave the robot girl his complete attention now. Although this appeared to be a sarcastic scold she had asked him a question whose answer she could predict, thus following the practice of every successful lawyer. Although he knew that he was entering a clever verbal trap Roger attempted to bluster his way through. "But of course, Dorothy," he said as he held the lapels of his black blazer in exaggerated arrogance. "You know that I always pride myself on being a gentleman."

"It would appear that the definition of 'gentleman' is different than the one given in the dictionary," Dorothy deadpanned. "I was not aware that its proper definition was 'louse', Roger Smith."

"I'm sorry; did I do something to offend you?" Roger teased, "I thought that I've always treated pretty young ladies with the utmost respect, whether they are animal or mineral."

"What sort of man reads _Gentleman_?" she asked him.

"What?" Roger took a step backward, his finely honed instincts now fully aware of mortal danger.

Dorothy chose that moment to reveal that she had been holding a magazine behind her back the entire time. She opened the publication and read a passage. "'What sort of man reads _Gentleman_? He's a man who turns his leisure time into an adventure...He's a man with a discriminating eye...He's a man who is smart about his future.'" She closed the magazine and held it up to display its cover. Despite the photograph of the fetching young woman on the cover, the magazine was ironically named '_Gentleman_'. "Do you call yourself a gentleman, Roger Smith?"

"Where did you get that?" A red-faced Roger bellowed.

"From your desk," she replied quietly in a gentle accusation. "Is this _yours_, Roger Smith?"

"I thought I made it clear that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch my desk!" he cried.

"I was cleaning it out, that's different," Dorothy retorted using the astounding ability of fair sex known as 'fuzzy logic' in order to prove that she was in fact, a real woman. A computer only registers positive and negative. A switch is either on or off. An answer is either a 'yes' or a 'no'. An order is either obeyed or disobeyed. The female brain however has the astounding ability to hold two self-contradicting, mutually exclusive thoughts in the same space without any evidence of cranial strain. Thus Dorothy was able to contradict Roger's orders without appearing to disobey them. "You didn't answer my question," Dorothy stated, displaying familiarity with the phrase 'the best defense is a good offense'. "Is this magazine _yours_, Roger Smith?"

"What makes you think it's mine?" Roger asked, attempting to use a flimsy denial to deflect the question. "It could be Norman's, did you ask _him_?"

"It was in _your_ desk," Dorothy informed him. "The one that no one is allowed to touch under any circumstances."

"He could have been cleaning the desk out and accidently left his copy of _Gentleman _in there," Roger suggested.

"It has your name and address imprinted on the back," the girl continued as she turned the magazine to reveal Roger's name and mailing information on the back cover. "Does this mean that you have a subscription?"

"Dammit, what were you doing in my desk?" Roger growled. "How did you even _find_ that thing anyway?"

Roger had hidden the incriminating magazine under a false bottom in a drawer full of wine catalogs, but Dorothy had managed to find it anyhow. A robot would not have found it. It would have accepted appearances as they were. A woman, on the other hand, can sense trouble or anything they don't like, which they often consider 'trouble'. This uncanny ability was handy when the dainty android accompanied him on a dangerous case. Dorothy could detect a giant robot buried in a pile of rubble ready to spring to life and ravage the city with reasonable accuracy, but she could also sense anything that Roger desired to keep hidden. Since she lived in his house, it limited the places where Roger could hide things from her.

"I told you," she said. "I was cleaning out your desk." Her tone indicated that her actions should be both reasonable and obvious, despite his strict instructions that his desk was sacrosanct and that none but the great Roger Smith could even touch it, let alone search the drawers. This ability to make decisions without any discernable logic was just more proof that she was a genuine woman and not a clever imitation. "Do you have a subscription for _Gentleman_ Roger Smith?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business!" the negotiator roared.

"On the contrary, it is entirely my business," the android girl insisted. "This magazine is called '_Gentleman_' a term that you use for yourself, yet it seems to be devoted to photographs of scantily clad young women. Explain this, Roger Smith." She fixed him with a glare that men referred to as 'the evil eye' in hushed whispers.

"Explain?" Although it was Dorothy and not Roger who had broken the rules, 'the evil eye' was enough to make the hapless human falter in his tracks and go on the defensive. "Explain what? What is there to explain?"

"What is the purpose of this magazine?" Dorothy asked as she shook the offending periodical for emphasis. "It does not appear to be about gentlemen at all. What is the purpose of such a publication, Roger Smith?"

"The purpose? What do you mean?" the human asked to buy himself time. Despite his skill at negotiations, Dorothy's questions kept Roger off balance. Surely the purpose would be obvious wouldn't it? Dorothy was playing innocent, allowing the full moral blame to rest on Roger's shoulders. Playing innocent was simple for a girl who could play the 'I don't understand humanity' card.

"Why would you spend money on a publication that is devoted to the exploitation of women, Roger Smith?" the android asked. "It does not seem to match your image as a gentleman. Is there something about gentlemen I do not know?"

"Well, uh, ahem," Roger coughed into his black-gloved fist as his mind raced to remember the definition in the dictionary. "Strictly speaking, a gentleman is a man of sufficient wealth that can devote his time to the more leisurely and artistic pursuits…"

"So a gentleman is lazy?" the girl interrupted impudently.

"No!" Roger snarled guiltily. "A true gentleman is a man whose conduct conforms to a higher standard of propriety and correct behavior!"

"Is reading a magazine like this considered correct behavior?" Dorothy asked mercilessly. She brandished the copy of _Gentleman_ like an exhibit in a murder trial.

"The desire to own such a magazine comes from emotions, you wouldn't understand!" Roger crossed his arms, closed his eyes and looked away.

"Perhaps you could explain it to me," Dorothy suggested with icy calm. "Explaining the other man's point of view is one of the things a professional negotiator _does_, is it not?"

"Uh…" Roger had to be careful at this point. Dorothy was exhibiting the cruel streak that all of her gender seemed to share. Just as a cat would toy with its prey, the feminine android was creating the illusion that Roger could escape when in reality she was merely prolonging his punishment.

"Why would a man who claims to behave in a chivalrous manner own such a degrading magazine?" the metal and plastic girl asked. "Why would such a magazine be called '_Gentleman_'? It would seem to be contradiction. What is its purpose? Why would anyone own a copy?"

Was Dorothy's curiosity overcoming her moral outrage? Again, more proof that Dorothy was a real woman in every way that counted. A robot has a one-track mind and does not focus on a second topic until the first one has been concluded. A woman's thought processes on the other hand, are nearly in a continuous state of flux compared with the rigid and unimaginative typical male. Indeed, these thoughts and opinions change direction and content faster than a laser modulated to cut through a megadeus' armor, making it impossible for men to know where they stand with any individual female from day to day; thereby keeping them permanently off balance. This is a well-documented interrogation process.

As a woman, a _real _woman, this gave Dorothy a definite and powerful advantage over Roger who depended on 'rules', or 'facts'. Indeed, his entire image as Paradigm City's top negotiator was that of impartial rationality. His black suit and professional demeanor was intended to impart the image of a reasonable 'third party' who could use logic and common sense to find a solution that everyone would accept. Dorothy on the other hand, had the mathematical logic of a computer combined with the chaotic 'fuzzy logic' of a girl, giving her an advantage that could not be countered, only endured.

Still, Roger Smith had to try. She had given him a chance to escape by inviting him to play the 'let me explain humanity' card, even though she often seemed to understand humans instinctively, and he was going to take it. Had she accessed the legendary and coveted nurturing side of the fair sex that mothers usually reserved for their offspring?

"Ahem," Roger coughed into his fist. "Well Dorothy, you are mentioning a very adult topic. One that gentlemen don't discuss with ladies, particularly with young and impressionable ones."

"The girls in the magazine seem very young," Dorothy insisted stubbornly. "It is unlikely that the one in the liquor ad has finished high school. Apparently there are circumstances where it is acceptable to discuss the topic with women. Otherwise the photographs could not be taken. Why do you own this magazine Roger Smith?"

"Well, uh, you know that the average healthy male gets… urges, don't you?" Roger asked uncomfortably.

"You mean like the urge to consume large amounts of alcohol or buy a new car?" Dorothy asked, being deliberately obtuse.

"No, I mean the urge to exercise, the uh, reproductive drive," Roger scratched the back of his neck and looked away.

"Oh yes," the girl nodded. "I am aware that the typical man is a pervert."

Blushing, the black clad negotiator again coughed into his fist. "Yes, well. Despite those, uh… inclinations no self-respecting gentleman will impose himself on a young lady. Unless the girl herself is being um… flirtatious, it is considered the height of rudeness to even make the suggestion. Are you following me so far?"

"So far," the android nodded. "Although the magazine would appear to encourage such behavior. The women aren't realistically depicted…"

"That is just the point," Roger smiled as he lunged at the opportunity to end the conversation. "The magazine depicts a fantasy."

"A fantasy," Dorothy repeated skeptically.

"Yes," Roger grinned and nodded guiltily. "A harmless fantasy, nothing more. Rather than bother a respectable young lady, a true gentleman confines himself to a harmless fantasy."

"A 'harmless' fantasy," she repeated again. "What do you need the magazine for? Do you forget what a woman looks like, Roger Smith?"

"The magazine… provides a uh… visual aid," Roger thought quickly. "It provides a stimulus. It's a substitute so there will be no need to bother a real woman with men's barbaric desires."

"A substitute," Dorothy repeated. "Like a doll or a robot girl."

"No! Not like a robot girl!" Roger's voice was louder than he intended so his next words were almost a whisper. "A robot girl would be going way too far! And it wouldn't be fair to a young and impressionable android girl either, if that's what you're thinking. I would never…"

"No Roger, you never would," Dorothy's scold sounded disappointed. "So let me get this straight: The magazine allows you to imagine that you have a woman to satisfy your depraved cravings."

"To satisfy the natural reproductive urge that keeps the human race going," Roger corrected testily. "That urge can be implemented in depraved and disgusting ways, or in gentle romantic ones, but it's necessary to perpetuate the species!" Roger had found a new defense. When confronted with an uncomfortable topic, use big words or scientific jargon whenever possible.

"I see," the red-haired fembot nodded dryly. "So the magazine allows a lonely and desperate man to imagine that he has an available young woman around to satisfy his longings. Am I accurate so far?"

"An unflattering assessment but it will do if we drop the subject," Roger grumbled. It was obvious that Dorothy would stretch the humiliation out as long as she could. It was time to play the 'I don't care anymore' card. It almost always managed to end such conversations in the past, so it was worth a try.

"I find it strange that you would waste good money on a magazine like this when you have a perfectly capable young woman living in your house," the android said as she turned and walked away. She tossed the offending magazine into a wastepaper basket for emphasis.

"Did I miss something?" Roger murmured as Dorothy left the room. What did she mean by that? Was that her cold logical way of flirting? "That sure is one complicated android," he smiled.

END

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